Have a Drink on Me
by Yugoslavia
Summary: Archer is dangerously close to becoming a workaholic. At the urging of those above him in Team Rocket, he decides to go out for the night to celebrate his recent promotion. A birthday gift for Desiree-U.
1. Chapter 1

_"_ _There's this girl you've got to meet."_

* * *

A large, rocky cliff jutted from the ground, raised above the desolate landscape below it. The sea surrounded it on all sides—a peninsula that jutted out from the main landmass, curling around the bay. An abandoned church stood tall atop the raised cliff, dark and eerie against the dimming evening sky. The lone spire looked like a black needle above the rocky, half-collapsed brick structure it stood on. The last vestiges of evening light shone through the dim windows near the main dome, some showing through holes in the papery, tattered roofs.

Beneath the cliff that the church stood on, a dark and wide cave gaped like a toothless smile, seeming endlessly far back in the darkness of the overhanging cave roof. Barely visible was a wide iron wall, reinforced and weathered, looking impenetrable. Several feet ahead of it was a guard tower, and several hundred feet ahead of it was a long chain-link fence that wrapped around the flat, desolate area in front of the church and the cave. A sign had been posted on the fence: 'Slowpoke Restorations – Keep Out'.

Something lurched inside the cave. A motor started up and whined loudly, echoing loudly out of the cave and becoming ambient in the fields ahead. A powerful, metallic shuddering rumbled throughout the cave as the large iron wall inside rose up, the dark interior slowly becoming exposed.

From the dark interior, Archer stepped out of the cave and walked on the rocky ground, entering the dim light of the twilight sky. He walked out a few feet, stepping over thick industrial cables that ran across the dry cave floor, before stopping and pausing to look out at the landscape ahead.

A gust of cold wind brushed aside Archer's pastel blue hair as he stared out across the sea. He stared out silently with cold, gray eyes, watching the sea foam and seeing the spinning light of the lighthouse on a rock miles away at the entrance of the bay.

Reaching into the black material of his turtleneck, Archer flipped where the Team Rocket 'R' insignia had been sewn on, hiding it.

* * *

 _"Archer, how come you're so boring?"_

 _Archer's head turned, looking sideways from the chair he sat in. He glanced back for only a moment to the source of the voice, thinking to himself quietly._

 _"What is that supposed to mean?" asked Archer._

* * *

Moments later, Archer had crossed the gate and successfully cleared the guard tower, and had walked up from the expanse of loose gravel and mud that took most of the 'restoration' area's compound, heading up a ridge where the cliff of the church began. He moved quietly, keeping the crunching sounds of his boots as minimal as possible so as to not attract wild Pokemon. As the ridge reached its highest point, Archer climbed around it and hunched down by its side, squatting so that his head was level with the ridge.

As his footsteps shuffled along a mud deposit and he reached a clearing with the other side, Archer reached into the folds of his brown leather jacket, pulling out a small pair of electronic binoculars. Pressing the view-ports to his eyes, he adjusted a small dial on top of the plastic housing, focusing the central lens on the front.

Vermilion City came into view.

* * *

 _The room was narrow, at least four times as tall as it was wide, and then at least ten times as long. Tall glass windows reached the heights of the room at the ends of both lengths, letting large amounts of overcast sunlight into the rooms, overwhelming what simple lamps had been lit throughout the room._

 _A large table had been set in the center of the room, with a carefully hand-drawn map of the Kanto-Johto landmass as it was several hundred years ago. An old wooden church model had been set on the map at the edge of where the Vermilion City port was—placed when the map was originally created—in addition to several simple, plastic-molded game-piece buildings that had been marked throughout Kanto. A few modern-looking pins had been set in the papery surface, all color coded, with simple colored strings making connections between pins and showing routes that weren't marked on any other map._

 _A pin had been stuck in by the old church model, with a big red 'R' on a paper flag._

 _At the end of the large map table, a large luxurious desk for an executive or some high-ranking officer had been placed only a few feet ahead, backed against the large window showing a vista of the bay, where the old abandoned church had been set many miles away from the shore and modern civilization, up on a large hilltop. Just ahead of that desk, at the bottom of the large, bright portrait of the outside world, the chair had been taken from the desk and pulled to the window, where Archer lounged back in it, staring contemplatively._

 _"Is it wrong for me to put work first in ninety percent of my life?" asked Archer, his chair easing forward at the slight of his leg, where the toes of his boots were pressed up against the wall beneath the window._

 _Just beyond where the light of the window cast down on the desk and a large portion of the map, a new figure emerged, walking steadily in with a careful gaze fixed on where Archer was in his chair—Ajax_ _. Tall, thin to a skeletal degree, he folded his arms behind his back as he walked, his movements unassuming. Though he was older than Archer, he was still fairly young, looking to be in his thirties. His hair, though long and seemingly unprofessional, was kept neat and in a bun at the base of his skull. His eyebrows were thick and expressive, his bony brow overshadowing his dark eyes. An ever-present five o'clock shadow covered his face, peppering his cheeks and chin with the beginnings of a dark beard._

 _"Not if you overdo it," said Ajax as he approached. When Archer turned back to look at him once again, he put on a smile. "You can overdo anything. You're dangerously approaching workaholic territory, you know."_

* * *

Archer removed the binoculars. The lights had just come on in the town, all of them twinkling in the distance.

Opening the side of his jacket, Archer slipped the binoculars back in. He then took several steps forward, bringing himself around the steep slope of the ridge he had perched himself beneath. He then hopped forward, his boots colliding with the ground below. Getting both feet on the ground didn't mean he had stable footing, and he soon found himself sliding down, the rocky earth beneath him sliding out and sending him downhill. He hurried his pace, running down the hill towards the leveling ground where the shore was.

Archer stopped himself. When he reached the base of the slope, he caught his breath for only a moment, arms out by his side as he hesitantly trusted his sense of balance. As he did, feeling his heart race, his head turned back to look just by his side as he remembered the next step of getting into town. A large, old sewer pipe jutted from the earth, taller than he was.

A light flashed down the sewer pipe—now a makeshift tunnel—as Archer clicked on his flashlight. Though Archer knew that the pipe was only as deep as the landmass he had crossed only moments earlier, the tunnel seemed endless in what he could see. He did his best not to let the smell get to him.

As he walked, his footsteps making ambient splashes as he stepped in water no deeper than the thin sole of his boots, Archer cast the long beam of light along the right side of the wall. His eyes squinted as he searched for a door, passing decades-old graffiti on the walls.

* * *

 _From one of the drawers on the desk, Ajax slipped his hand inside, pulling out a small glass bottle filled with an amber-colored liquid. Just behind the bottle, he pulled out an ornate crystal glass, taking a moment to remove the stopper from the bottle and pouring a thin layer of liquid into the glass. He set the bottle aside, not replacing the stopper, holding the glass and staring down into it._

 _"Yes, I did encourage you to work hard for this—not that I needed to, you would've done that on your own accord. But you've earned your keep—you've earned your title. Archer, one doesn't just get the rank of officer handed to them, you of all people know that."_

 _"Of course I know that," said Archer, staring past the bottle of liquor like he hadn't seen it. "It was never my intent to squander that."_

 _"Some would say that not celebrating is a form of squandering it. Your right of taking on the added responsibilities that come with the title of 'officer' is, well, to enjoy some of its... privileges," said Ajax. "Besides, you didn't spend two months of running around nonstop doing nothing—hell, you've earned a small break."_

 _Archer shook his head gently. He rubbed his temples silently, fighting back a headache that he felt coming on. "If you wanted me to go out and enjoy myself, I would've gladly done so. The question you asked, however, was whether or not I was 'boring'."_

 _"Well," said Ajax, swallowing what little drink he had in his mouth, shutting his eyes for a brief moment as he tolerated the sensation. "I guess it was just something that I had on my mind—brought to mind by the fact that, well, I gave you your new title about an hour or two ago and the first thing I catch you doing is staring out the window in the map room."_

 _"Is it against the rules to come into the map room when a meeting is not being held?" asked Archer, passively._

 _Ajax smiled. He stepped off from the desk he had been leaning against, walking up to Archer. He passed him as he walked, stepping up to the window, looking out of it and over the bay outside of it._

 _"I'm just afraid of what I've created, that's all," said Ajax. "I may feel a bit of guilt for pushing you so hard, that now that you've earned your title you can't enjoy it."_

 _Archer looked on thoughtfully, thinking silently._

* * *

The dimly lit sewer walls led to one final passage, where the path that Archer had been following dropped down to a long exit way. When he reached the edge where the railing stopped him from going any further, he looked down and saw a steel door—the exit, where the old 'Vermilion City Power & Electric' insignia had been scraped away and now only said 'Vermilion City' with 'Exit' added on below in graffiti. Archer walked around to the opening in the old, rusty railing, where a ladder was waiting for him.

At the end of the ladder, where Archer made his landing with a loud clank, he turned to look down the last stretch of the secret path. The door was ahead, lit by a guarded light above the steel frame, but the entire path was shrouded by dark walls on either side—where presumably outdated, hazardous electrical panels resided. Though Archer didn't really think much of it, he looked cautious. He took the extra time to take out his flashlight, clicking it on and flashing it down the dark annals of the short hallway. As he had expected, dusty old and bare circutry resided in the shrouds and barriers of old pipes and steel supports, thick wires with exposed sections sticking out from where they had been screwed onto yellowing circuit boards.

Turning off his flashlight, Archer walked ahead a few steps, making his way to the exit. In moments, he heard another sound—something like a footstep on the steel plating behind him.

In moments, Archer had reached for the Pokeballs tucked in the inner folds of his jacket. He pulled one out, still facing the lit exit door, remaining completely still. He then pressed in on the white release button, pointing his Pokeball out.

The cramped, narrow hallway echoed to deafening levels as a blue flash came from in front of Archer. In moments, Doomap—Archer's Houndoom—had appeared in front of him, panting as was typical but instantly turning quiet as soon as Archer made a quick sound. His thin black ears turned up as he listened in the silence, realizing by Archer's mood that something was afoot.

Then, a cold clicking sound: the sound of a hammer being pulled back on a gun.

"You brought a Pokemon to a gunfight? Heh, typical Archy~"

Archer looked unamused. He raised his hands beside his head, making another quiet sound under his breath when Doomap had turned to become territorial.

"Hello, Lucky," said Archer.

"It's Kat. Now, turn around for me so I can see you~"

With a quiet, reserved sigh, Archer turned from where he stood, keeping his arms up by his head as he moved slowly. Out of the corner of his eye, when he looked to the person who had snuck up behind him, he saw the black form of a gun pointed within inches of his head, ready to fire.

Lucky Kat was dressed like any female Rocket grunt would be—simple black uniform kept neatly, red 'R' in the the center, neatly kept and raised collar, and long silvery gloves—but the cap was different. A pair of childish, felt cat ears had been sewn onto her hat with bright neon pink stitching along the edges. Her brown eyes looked pouty, annoyed, but still threatening enough to wield a gun.

Archer sighed again, the humiliation of _who_ had captured him sinking in one step at a time. "I hadn't heard that they had posted you down here, 'Kat'," he said.

"Everyone knows it's 'Kat'. _Everyone_ calls me that. If you'd visit more often then maybe you'd care to remember it," said Kat. She removed the clip from the gun, disarming it. She placed both the clip and the empty gun behind her, slipping it into the the belt above her short black skirt.

"I can't repeat what everyone calls you, you know that."

"Only Zuzzo can call me that, thank you~ Talk all you want, you're the one getting 'searched', eheh~"

Another deep sigh came from Archer as he forced himself to shut his eyes, remembering the balance of power in the moment. Even still, he couldn't help but cringe when Kat's gloved hands found their way beneath his arms, patting down his sides down to his hips.

"Kat, you know it's me," Archer groaned, trying to keep his composure as Kat did a 'second layer' search, running her hands over his chest and stomach for any remaining elements. "We're on the same side... What's the point of this...?"

Kat's 'scan', running her hands down over his stomach, had brought her dangerously close to the pelvic region—the knowledge of which appeared in her own wicked smile. Her hands ran up his chest against, slipping over his shoulders, her body lingering within inches of his as her face came close to make sure that Archer could see the taunt on her lips, her eyes wandering.

"I don't know, you didn't remember my name, did you~? What if you're not the real Archer? What if you're using the Decanectar Potion I read about in those magician academy books? What's keeping me from thinking such ludicrous thoughts, huh?" asked Kat, her voice hushed with just how close they were, her hands sliding over the topside of his arms, squeezing over his arms. Just behind Archer, she could hear Doomap growling quietly as she got closer to him.

Archer managed to look away from her—his stoicism keeping her at bay. "Because that sort of thing is made up, it's fiction," he said. "The more logical explanation is that I haven't been down here in several months—that I've forgotten that this passage is guarded."

"That's most certainly correct," said Kat, pacing around Archer, making her way around him—to Archer's chagrin. "I think you must certainly realize how lonely I get down here~"

"Then certainly you must have other travelers who— _ackk_!" Archer grunted, Kat smacking his shoulder blades as she pressed her hands to his backside.

"Other travelers? Certainly~ I'm just surprised to see someone like you who doesn't get out as often down here—I want to know what exactly makes you tick~" Kat giggled, her hands passing down over his back, feeling every little section of bone and muscle. Her head craned over his shoulder, her hat brushing against his cheek. "I can have a group of visitors down here, certainly—I had Scout Ajax and his gaggle of grunts down here not an hour ago, doing their best not to be seen out in Vermillion City as they made their way to that Rocket Hideout in some bar. But do they let me talk to them~? Do they let me thoroughly _inspect_ them~? Noooo, everyone gets a pass because they're with Ajax. I don't get to know any of the cute boys in that group."

Archer would've responded immediately, picking out all of the flaws in her logical reasoning, but he was having a hard time focusing on the conversation. Kat's 'inspecting' hands had passed below his lower back, and were now feeling for any weapons that had been stashed in his bottom, using only the most careless effort to disguise her real motivations.

"I guess I have to settle for you~" Kat grinned.

"Guess we all have to make compromises," said Archer.

The playful look in Kat's eyes became dull, her playful smile turning into an annoyed frown. Her hands lowered, moving down to his thighs, forcing her to squat down.

"Huh, same old Archer," Kat sighed. "I guess I somehow thought that a couple months and a promotion would change you, but that would be kinda 'fictional' wouldn't it? Ahaha~!"

Archer shook his head gently. "Seems to be something that a lot of people keep bringing up. Especially today."

Kat stood up behind Archer, her eyes lingering on him for just a moment as she thought. She then walked ahead of him, a slight skip in her step as she moved on in front of him, turning around to face him with hands on her hips and a seemingly thoughtful look on her.

"Well, it's a strange thing to think about—if you think about it," said Kat, hands on her hips as she looked over Archer. "You're moving up in some shady organization, all because you follow the rules—well, the rules of breaking the rules. Team Rocket is like the most interesting group of people on the planet, and you—superstar, single guy, smart guy, moving up in Team Rocket faster than light—you're friccin' the most _boring_ person on earth."

Archer took a solitary breath through his nostrils. "Thank you, Kat."

"No! _No_! It's a problem!" Kat said, sounding deeply annoyed. "That's why I'm telling you. There's a reason people keep bringing it up."

The Pokeball that Archer had pulled from his jacket moments earlier was now back in his hand, staying wielded as he walked slowly away from Kat, heading towards the door. He pointed the release towards Doomap, pressing in once again and zapping him with the red capture laser. He placed it back inside his jacket as he reached the door.

"Well, I suppose that's why I'm down here tonight, ultimately," he said. "It's time for a change."

Kat had been prepared to disappear back into her corner beside the ladder, but she hesitated. She looked genuine for a moment, looking down at the ground as her posturing caught her between leaving and staying. She eventually looked up at where Archer was, meeting eyes with him.

"For real? That's rather exciting~" said Kat, a giggling grin appearing beneath the gloved hand she used to cover it.

Archer smiled. "Yeah. In fact, perhaps you could lend to that experience. You seem very good at making things exciting."

This made Kat blush—for the first time in a long time. She stood at attention, her eyes going wider than they ever had been as she snapped a daring salute.

"Sir, yes sir~!"

* * *

 _Archer was still lost in thought for several lingering moments after Ajax had left his sight, continuing to stare in the space where he had been. The steady footsteps over carpet as Ajax left stayed with him as he continued to think to himself, not paying any attention._

 _"You know, Archer," Ajax spoke up, beginning his thought._

 _Archer turned his head, not changing posture. At the door, Ajax was still standing out with the door in his hand, his overcoat pulled over his shoulders and every other part of him looking like he was ready to leave—but something was holding him back and making him stay in the moment._

 _"There's this girl you've got to meet. She'll be at the bar_ — _you know which one._ _"_


	2. Chapter 2

The streetlights in Vermilion City had come on only moments earlier, casting their hazy glow over streets that still had traces of rain from the morning. The streets were paved with brick, cutting through sections of wild, sea-saturated grasses that had grown tall. The smell of sea and salt was everywhere, despite what the churning chimneys on all the different buildings were putting out.

The streets were largely devoid of people—save for Archer and Kat, as they walked side by side along the lone streets.

"You couldn't have made a more discreet attempt at hiding your uniform, could you?" Archer asked, keeping his voice at a hush as he scanned the streets, keeping his hands in his pockets. Down by his side, Doomap followed with only the subtle clinking sounds of the steel anklets around his forelegs, his thin black legs slinking at a gliding pace.

Kat, who had removed her cap and subsequently replaced with a thin pink headband—also equipped with a wiry set of cat ears on top—had removed the outer jacket of her uniform, wearing the same thin black turtleneck undershirt that Archer wore. A black, white-sleeved varsity jacket rested comfortably over her arms, the collar popped up around her neck. A pair of black pants—standard issue grunt wear secondaries for cold weather—hugged her legs and fit neatly into her gray Rocket boots. The occasional glimpse of a white utility belt beneath her sweater would instantly give her away if the Rocket 'R' on the buckle didn't.

As Archer's quick, darting eyes scanned the street, he once looked across the street to see a police officer on the corner, posted with an Arcanine by his side as he leaned against the white walls of a Pokemon Center. His eyes turned down, feeling his heartrace as he silently cursed himself for being so careless with Kat.

Rolling the bright pink sucker that was in her mouth, Kat grinned and waved to the officer, who in turn smiled back at her. "Sometimes," she said, popping the sucker out of her mouth as she looked curiously back at Archer, "I wonder if this is what it's like to be a princess in your own kingdom, aha~"

Archer shook his head. "I had heard that we wouldn't have as much of a thumb on Vermilion City for long if some of the busybodies in the west had anything to say. I didn't know if that day had already come or not."

"Oh it won't come for a loooooong time~" Kat grinned.

* * *

Sheltered among tall trees, further back in Vermilion City by the entering route's gate, the old structure of a bar appeared at the end of a dirt path. An 'OPEN' sign glowed in the window, among the various glowing beer label signs that had been hung beneath the worn, dirty eves. A round sign above the entrance glowed, reading 'The Lucky Meowth'. The grime on the brick and signs was enough to scare anyone who didn't know what they were doing entering such an establishment—aside from anyone who had seen the pack of Rocket grunts lingering outside it.

The moon had come up, and as both Archer and Kat headed down the path the dark trees above blocked it out steadily, a tree at a time. As Kat went ahead, hopping over thick roots that had grown in and obstructed the path, Archer followed quietly behind, doing his best not to trip. He gave a the bar a leery look, concerned with the amount of sound coming out of it—every inch of the inside seemed to be crammed with conversation, radiating out of every pore in the brick walls. Through the dark windows, Archer could see the shadows of people occupying every single booth in the bar, the glowing area where the bar itself was occupied by people in stools.

"It's awfully busy tonight..." murmured Archer.

Kat had hopped over a series of rocks that had damned up the muddy path, hopping onto a clearing of fine barkdust. All around her in the clearing, bikes had been stacked on metal racks—several dozen of them. She didn't seem daunted in the slightest by it, and as she turned up looking to Archer she was visibly humored by the thought.

"I told you—Ajax and his recruits all came through. Where else would they be going~?" she asked, raising a curious eyebrow. "You really weren't kidding when you said you don't come through here that often, aha~"

Archer shook his head. He was a little less graceful clearing the roots, unable to see them in the ever-changing light of neon signs and the dull outdoor lights. He nearly stumbled coming off of the rocks, coming to a steady landing on the barkdust with a few more steps than were necessary for someone as agile as Kat.

"It just seems that, well, having the whole of Team Rocket in one building is awfully dangerous," said Archer. "It'd take one raid by the police to shut us all down."

"You are too funny, Archer~ Of course, not all of Team Rocket is in a single building. This is home territory, cops ain't a thing. You're in the magic kingdom, sweetie, so just relax~"

A concrete platform jutted up above the barkdust, where the bar's front faced the path up out of the lowered area. The overhang had kept the smooth concrete dry, making it a plenty comfortable space for the few Rocket grunts and officers that lingered outside it—fully dressed in uniform. A few amber bottles lingered in their hands as they drank, wisps of smoke pluming from the few grunts that were sharing cigarettes.

A large, furry Raticate chittered and hissed at Archer threateningly as he passed by, following Kat's lead. Archer gave a passing look down to the Raticate when the chain it had on pulled sharply, an unsettling clinking sound coming from the chain as it went taught. By the shrunken, loose-looking eyes it had, Archer gave the Raticate a strange look, noting its instability. All around, he could feel eyes on him, trying to figure out why exactly he was there.

Archer had been distracted by all the sights and sounds at the front of the building that when Kat opened the door it caught him completely off-guard. The overwhelming wall of sound that came out made him jump.

The dark interior of the bar was blisteringly warm, in stark contrast to the cool spring air outside. Hazy pink lights were pointed all over the place, seemingly an attempt to spruce up the interior when the last decade ended. A long bar took up the center of the space, curling to the left where more bar space and booths were—the bar presumably shaped around what kitchen space was behind it. On the right, the bar opened up into more comfortable space—or what would've been more open and comfortable if it wasn't packed in with Rocket grunts and officers. Several dozen grunts had swarmed a pool table, some leaning over from their standing tables to look over and watch. Booths were crowded with various groups—some rowdy grunts drinking away after a hard day of raiding, others getting cuddly with their partners as their drinks had already set in a long time ago. Conversations bounced off the walls in incomprehensible strands, swarming with the loud rock music that played from speakers in the ceiling.

No sooner than Archer had taken a stunned glance around the place had Kat disappeared, gone missing in the varied throngs of people who had all scattered around the place.

Then, Archer felt someone tugging on his arm.

Archer stumbled blindly to the side, heading into the tight space where the bar curved around and where many upper-level Rocket members had occupied booths. He followed without hesitation, hurrying past waiters and other staff members who occupied the space as he followed the source of the pulling.

As Archer stumbled through the last set of people, he spied a booth with an empty seat—seemingly his direction, but then he looked up in confusion as he felt himself getting tugged the opposite direction. Kat wasn't pulling him.

Instead, Archer's body was flung powerfully against the side of an arcade machine, nearly knocking the machine into the next one over, much to the shouting and annoyance of the grunts playing on the machine. Dazed, feeling his head spin involuntarily, Archer shook off the feeling he had and looked back up, seeing the dark figure who had pulled him aside. When he went to protest physically, fists curled and ready to push anyone off of him, a figure stepped between him and the beams of blinding pink lights overhead. He looked up into the overshadowed face of someone familiar.

"Lilith...?" Archer asked, his voice surprisingly sore.

"Hello Archer," said Lilith, coldly.

A pair of pale green eyes stared down at Archer, framed by loose, yarn-like lengths of pastel green hair that had been pulled around in several old-world style hair clips. Her olive-toned complexion looked alien in the strange lights of the bar, helped by the smoke that oozed from her full lips. A cigarette was pinched between unusually long, elegant fingers, the lit tip glowing silently.

Though Archer was completely focused on the scenario at hand, something caught his attention and diverted his eyes—the sliding, pink something over her shoulders. Though Lilith's stiff, starched white shirt with the vertical, fully buttoned collar looked very period for maybe two hundred years ago in another region, the complimentary black jacket that all Rocket executives wore with the slim feminine cut beneath her ribs was present among the elegant regalia she had. Over her shoulders, what was draped over it was much like a feather boa that someone maybe a hundred years may have worn, but it was clearly something else—what was beneath an oozing, mucus-y layer was clearly skin, and it was pulsing with life.

"The word is that you've found favor with Giovanni," said Lilith. "Seems he's rather taken with your performance as of late and has chosen to rank you up to 'officer', hm?"

"You can't believe everything you hear."

"I just find it very curious," said Lilith, moving in closer to Archer in a simple step, graceful and threatening at the same time. "They seem willing to hand out promotions to anyone these days... Sooner or later Team Rocket is going to have a completely different face to be showing everyone, and that face may not be quite as recognizable... or as experienced."

Archer didn't have a lot to say. He kept his gaze fixed to Lilith's, though out of the corner of his eye he saw the pink something on her shoulders shifting again. A slimy, malformed head slowly rose up, looking at Archer with black and beady, slime-covered eyes. The sound from its trapped mouth sounded like a chorus of rusty door hinges.

"It sounds like you have a problem with that," Archer spoke up.

"I'm just raising some logical concerns, that's all," said Lilith.

"Some might perceive that as jealousy."

"Your childish thoughts have no ground to stand on with me," said Lilith, her voice becoming threatening. "Don't think I've simply forgotten the incident at the Pewter City Gym, especially when the rumors say that it had more than a little to do with helping you get promoted. I will not tolerate people who use my work to stand taller than they currently do. My work will not be used to gain inside brownie points. When Madame Boss hears that—"

"Madame Boss is of no concern to me," said Archer. "I have no reason to suspect that she'll find me guilty of anything other than helping the cause."

"The cause of what, yourself? My dear Archer..."

It was Archer's turn to move. He stood up from the corner between the arcade cabinet and the wall, moving in front of the door to the kitchen. His sudden step-up forced Lilith to take a step back, her movement forcing her to hold the slimy creature up on her shoulders.

"Perhaps it would be in your interest to examine whether or not the research you perform for Team Rocket really _is_ for Team Rocket or for Lilith. You want to accuse someone of helping themselves?"

The pink thing on Lilith's shoulders snapped. What sounded like a bark came from its maw as the muscles in its head pushed the black, pea-sized eyes up through the snotty layers above its skin, focusing on where Archer was. The long, whip-like tail that hung down over the 'R' patch on her black jacket arched sharply, the lanky hindlegs scrambling as it tried to push itself around into an attacking position as the stretching membrane of its mouth tried its best to show its half-developed teeth.

Lilith's dark eyes looked unconvinced. She remained stoic, her eyes never breaking contact, even as someone new entered the conversation.

From beside Lilith, Ajax entered the conversation, looking as cordial as he possibly could. He put a comprimising hand on her shoulder, opening his mouth to speak and instead looking down to his hand where he realized it had landed in something snotty. As the pink creature on her shoulder became calm, seeing that some curious new stimuli had entered its immediate environment, Ajax opted to reach behind him to the booth and grab a handful of napkins.

"Ladies and gentlemen, there's no chance I could help broker some kind of peace treaty between the two of you, could I? Could I at least try?" Ajax asked, cracking a playful smile to lighten the mood.

"Certainly, you may try," said Lilith, never breaking eye contact with Archer. Her words were brisk and biting. "We were about to split a drink."

Ajax laughed, and then swatted Archer's arm when he didn't laugh. "I need to have a little chat with Archer, I'll bring him back over when I'm done so you two can finish that drink. Is that okay with you and Mr...?"

"Mewtto," Lilith said, the name sounding like a threat in itself, as much as she was unwilling to move away from Archer—something that Ajax could sense.

"'Mewtto', right," Ajax grinned. "Well, I have a keen sense of seeing when another guy needs to hit the head. Just wanted to see if I could sneak him out of this, I had a feeling you might not have known."

"I do not have a keen sense of one's urinal movements."

* * *

The bathroom door slammed to a close, the old hinged arm above it doing nothing to stop it from falling into place in the doorframe. Though the lights in the bathroom were not the same ugly shade of pink as the rest of the bar, the overall light levels were still dim, making things hard to see.

As soon as Ajax had entered—and made sure that Archer had entered the men's room as well—he did a quick scan to the stalls in the corner, seeing no legs posted underneath it. He switched a lock on the bathroom door, locking the two of them in. Though Archer looked on in confusion, Ajax moved quickly and without any response or reaction. Instead, he scanned the room, heading to the corner by the sinks. He immediately hit his fist on the large chrome buttons on all of the different hand dryers that had been bolted to the wall, firing up and making their obnoxious, leaf-blower sounds.

"Might I ask what's happening?" asked Archer, his voice quickly getting drowned out by the chorus of rushing air from the hand dryers as Ajax turned more on, brushing open the stall doors as he did.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Ajax then turned to look at Archer. Archer had walked casually away from the door, looking on in confusion, and Ajax came quickly to meet him in the middle of the bathroom. The playful look was gone from Ajax's face, instead replaced with a dire quality, one that only darkened the closer he got to Archer.

"Remember when I said I was canceling all your assignments for the next few days?" asked Ajax, his voice at a rushed whisper that Archer could only hear when he was close—which, by Ajax's posturing, he had become close, something that Archer quickly put together in his head.

"I remember. I had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn't last particularly long," said Archer. "Maybe you were right, maybe you are my enabler."

"Less jokes," said Ajax, curtly. "There's something seriously wrong here. I wouldn't be asking you for help if I didn't need it—I meant to give you a night off."

Archer nodded quietly, listening.

"There's a plot—here, tonight—to assassinate some high-ranking officers. Right as we're all gathered here tonight."

"What?" asked Archer.

"I'm serious. I told you something was wrong," said Ajax. "There's some faction within our ranks, one that wants to take charge of Team Rocket—they're trying to finish off the leadership before it turns into some kind of internal thing and they have to break off. They want to do it all in one night—tonight."

Archer looked on, gravely. By the worn lines that had appeared on Ajax's face, he could tell he meant it.

"I need you to either find out who's behind this plot and stop it, or get yourself out of here as soon as something goes down. Do you understand?"

Archer nodded. One by one, he could hear the different hand dryers shutting off, reaching the end of their automatic timers. Their conversation was becoming more and more audible, and this made Ajax hold back, giving his own understanding nod.

"Good."


	3. Chapter 3

The latch on the bathroom door turned, whining in the socket of the door. A moment later, like nothing had happened, the door swung open and opened wide enough for both Archer and Ajax.

"Rather clever, the hand-dryer trick," said Archer, passingly as he came out ahead of Ajax, mindless of anything on the other side. He then stopped short, realizing he had nearly collided with another person. Seemingly blinded, Archer immediately stepped to the side to let the person through, thinking it was someone who wanted to go ahead of him into the men's room. When the person didn't move, Archer looked up from where he had propped the door open with his foot for Ajax to exit and this new person to enter.

It was a young, redheaded woman, a black Rocket beret tipped to the side on her head. A pair of bright, neon red eyes looked up at Archer, seemingly glowing in the darkness of her eyes. She looked to have a clean, paling complexion normally, but there was marks of dried mud across her cheeks—some caught in her hair as well, matting it in strange bent shapes around her head. All down the traditional black Rocket grunt uniform that she wore, mud had been smeared across where the large red 'R' was in the center. Her uniform looked like a costume that had seen too many halloweens—despite the mud splatters—where the black fabric was fraying and the foam padding around the torso had come through and broken off in some areas. Her gloves were forever ruined by grime, as well as her boots.

"Ariana, hello!" said Ajax, beaming, surprised to see her—not nearly as stunned as Archer was. "Sorry for occupying the men's room, it's all yours."

"It just seems oddly suspicious when two men lock the door and come out thinking its inconspicuous," Ariana said, raising a pointed eyebrow as she turned her attention to Ajax. She then smiled, playfully, toying with Ajax's expectations more than his words.

Archer had continued to have his eyes locked on her, even as she looked away. When she looked back at him, Archer saw an uncomfortable quality in her face—a feeling that had nothing to do with how filthy she was.

"Archer," Ajax said, raising his voice to cut through what was seemingly the beginning of a very awkward pause. "I wouldn't feel so bad abandoning you if I wasn't leaving you to meet with the cutest member of Team Rocket. I believe I have some other business to attend to, if you'll excuse me."

As if what he had said had somehow helped prevent a pregnant pause, Ajax took up and left, stepping between Archer and Ariana to leave the small section of the bar where the two bathrooms met. Isolated from the loud, thought-drowning sounds, Archer and Ariana hesitated to follow.

"You know, I came looking because Kat thought she had let you drown in the crowd," said Ariana. "She's saved a spot for you at our table."

Archer had caught himself being distracted. His gaze still lingered on where Ajax had been moments earlier in the doorway, having left him be—his mind still on the conversation in the bathroom. His head turned, his eyes turning to meet with Ariana's, seeing that they were earnest. It took him several seconds to reengage, remembering where he was and how he had gotten to that bar. He blinked, the image of Kat returning to his head, making him cringe as he processed the whole thing. As he looked at Ariana, something in his expression softened, and he relented.

"Yeah, let's."

Ariana put on a smile. "Good. She can be a trifle to handle on one's own."

* * *

Leaving the alcove of the bathroom, the inside of the bar seemed hazier than it had been before, more smoke seemingly filling the space and making the pink lights more of a nuisance. A wall of grunts with their backs to them proved an annoying front as, Archer trying to walk the length around where they had all stacked, watched Ariana cut through them and their game of pool. Archer followed quickly, stepping through the gap between all of them and following Ariana closely. They walked along where several tall standing tables had been set, dense groups of female grunts packed in around them all, giving Ariana and Archer leery eyes as they sipped their drinks. Passing between them took them close to the bar, where those at the stools had grown much rowdier, their conversations at shouts and their camaraderie becoming more physical—much to the chagrin of the bartender. As they reached the front of the bar, Ariana swung to the left, passing around where several had been standing and were talking up the fight between an officer and a grunt.

All of the activity that Archer had passed put him into a stupor—the extra cigarette smoke hadn't helped either to put him in a clean mental state. When he looked down, he realized he was standing in front of a booth. Ariana was sitting down on one side, a seat next to her open as she sat across the table from two other people—though they were seemingly so entangled they couldn't be separated. Kat had leaned in close to Zuzzo, looking ready to fall asleep, her head on his shoulders as he kept his arm around her, stroking it like he would a beloved Pokemon.

"Are you going to sit down?"

Archer had been staring down at the two of them—Kat and Zuzzo—like something was wrong between the two of them. When he looked back to where Ariana was by his side, having made space in the booth beside her, Archer didn't look fazed or embarrassed like he may normally have. Instead, his thoughts shifted, his expression never changing, as he took a step back.

"I'm getting drinks. What would you like?" asked Archer.

Ariana looked thoughtful for a moment—she hadn't thought of that, despite being in a bar. It took her several seconds to act on the question, her posture shifting around uncomfortably as she wondered to herself what to respond with. Her hands ran uncomfortably beneath her hair, brushing her hat aside and forcing her to raise her other hand to catch it, then setting it beside her on the booth. Her fingers brushed over the smooth table, herself sitting up more as her gaze lingered on the glossy surface.

"A brandy should be fine," said Ariana.

* * *

Ajax was leaning over the bar, just at the corner where there were no stools. Arms folded, his legs crossed one-over-the-other behind him and his torso bent over the wooden lip of the bar corner at nearly a ninety-degree angle. He was chatting with one of the newer recruits who sat in a stool just beside him, the other recruit leaned into listen to the conversation with as much crowding noise as the bar had. As he looked on, listening to some point that one of the grunts nearly had to shout to get across, Ajax looked up out of the corner of his eye, looking down the length of the bar and the length of stools that had been stood up—Archer was walking towards him.

As Ajax paid attention for the final bit of what the grunt was saying, he waved the conversation off lightly, shouting something just as incoherent back as he stood himself up—just enough to rest his side against the bar and lean facing Archer.

"She's pretty cute, huh?"

"Yeah, you mentioned something like that," said Archer, raising his voice to a shout—his voice clearly not used to speaking at such volumes. He was hunched over, fumbling with his wallet, leafing out cash from it as the bartender rushed to make his drinks.

Though Archer was somewhat distracted, a hand suddenly went between him and the top of his wallet, pushing it down. When Archer looked up to see what was happening, he saw Ajax giving him a knowing smile and handing out some cash to the bartender to cover Archer's drinks. Archer looked deeply annoyed up at him, and Ajax just rolled his eyes, grinning.

"Don't worry about it. You're on assignment now," laughed Ajax. "Let me cover the expenses, its the least I can do to help make up for switching things around on you."

Archer shook his head. It wasn't just the music that was giving him a headache. "I can handle things on my own with women, thank you. You don't have to give me homework," said Archer.

Beside Ajax, both of them watched as the bartender set out square white napkins on the bar's surface one at a time, setting two drinks down—and then a third, somehow added to the tally by something Ajax had said that Archer clearly missed. He looked on, watching as a smoky brown liquid was added to a glass largely filled up with half-and-half and chunks of ice. All three glasses were passed to him, and Ajax immediately took the third, taking a drink.

As he sipped, Ajax soon looked somewhat serious—somewhat somber. "It's a little more complicated than that, now," he said.

Archer, whose eyes were still fixed on the various drinks that had been set on the bar, remained quiet. His gaze then switched, watching as Ajax took a long drink from his glass, looking mildly concerned as the drink went on. His features flattened as a thought crossed his mind.

"You think Ariana is our spy, don't you?"

Ajax pulled his drink away. He looked at it for a long time, then set it back down on the napkin, lining it up with the soaked ring that had already set in on it. Slowly, he looked up to Archer, looking as regretful as he could likely ever look. He made an odd, uncomfortable smirk as he looked away, and then finally up at Archer.

"Maybe it's not so complicated," said Ajax.

* * *

Ariana had taken to looking out into the rest of the bar, looking away from the scene happening in the opposite side of the booth. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the dark forms of two people moving close together—moving somewhat 'aggressively' as they seemed to be 'wrestling', making strange, animal noises with one another. As it so happened, it was where Kat and Zuzzo had been, and the dark shapes that moved against one another resembled them closely. The longer it went on, the closer Ariana was to looking sick once again. Her face had turned a lighter shade beneath the streaks of mud, her eyes darting about as she tried to think of something that wasn't happening not a foot away from her.

Her whole body seemed to rise as she saw Archer approaching, walking down the clustered, crowded pathway along several other booths that led to theirs. She seemed much more excited than she should have been, beaming brightly as she slid into her corner of the booth and gave Archer room to slide in. Archer had set the glasses down on the table, no sooner than he noticed what was happening between Kat and Zuzzo.

The wall thudded, right as Zuzzo's back and head collided with the wall, forced up against it by the force of Kat's clumsy, uncoordinated arms. His Rocket cap flipped up, tufts of pink hair coming up and out like it was full of feathers, some falling across his eyes and blinding him. As his hands drunkenly reached up, trying to clear his vision and grab his hat at the same time, he felt a pair of just a clumsy—and not as blinded—hands grabbing the side of his head, bringing him close for an intimate, hot kiss. Their lips moved furiously together, flashes of teeth showing between wet, kissy lips.

As Archer was getting his bearings, looking confused at the sight across the table, he looked to Ariana for some answers. No sooner than he had sat, Ariana was engulfed in her drink, gulping down a sizable amount of it.

"One might wonder why I don't come here as often," Archer wondered aloud, feeling numbly for his own glass in front of him, showing the first symptoms of a headache despite his inability to look away—it was like a car wreck unfolding before him, in slow motion and in high definition.

"That would make two of us."

Archer looked back. Ariana was looking back from where she had sank back into her chair in the booth, smiling. It made Archer relax, no longer be so hunched over in where he sat in the booth, unfolding his arms from where they had unfolded on the table in front of him.

The table then lurched, as two sets of arms and legs tried to suddenly push themselves out of the table, making drinks slosh and slide forward for a second. Both Archer and Ariana looked over, terrified, Ariana holding close to her own drink and Archer putting a hand over his on the table to keep it from capsizing as abruptly. Both Kat and Zuzzo's arms were fighting to gain some kind of hold on the table and the booth, inching themselves back against the vinyl seats as they kept their lips locked. Several painful winces came through—though they were masked in lustful groans and strange, drunken noises that had no sexual relation—as Zuzzo inadvertently jabbed his elbow into her ribcage several times and Kat's knee thudded several times into the center of his belly.

Somehow, in the preceding struggle to get out of the narrow opening of the booth bench and the table, Zuzzo stumbled out from beneath Kat, plummeting to the ground and landing on the filthy linoleum floor of the bar, looking momentarily dazed. Above, Kat kneeled on the bench, a leg stepping down as she stood herself up over Zuzzo. She held the corner of the booth bench, using it to stabilize her obviously tipsy figure. She then slid the white-sleeved varsity jacket she wore back over her arms, sliding it back and dropping it onto the booth seat with abandon. She immediately went to work sliding up the sleeves of her black turtleneck, slipping her arms inside and into the torso portion, giving her enough of a hold on it to launch it over her head. The wiry headband that had been tucked into her hair came flying off onto the table, her brunette hair tousled about and hanging in the air. In the slim, black tank top that she wore underneath, Kat reached down and hoisted Zuzzo back up onto his feet, putting an arm around him until he got his footing.

As soon as Zuzzo was back up, the kissing began once more. Their arms drunkenly found their bodies—Zuzzo's arms sliding around Kat's torso, Kat's arms wrapping around the back of his neck—as Zuzzo proceeded to immediately pick Kat up. Kat's legs swung around his hips, her standard-issue gray Rocket boots locking around his hips as the orgy of lips and tongues resumed.

Both Archer and Ariana watched as Zuzzo, a man who had been on the ground moments earlier from stumbling over due to a lack of coordination, carried another human being across the bar, making their way to the bathrooms.

"Looks like the seat's open for you. Be careful not to catch something."

Archer looked back over at Ariana, seeing that she had spoken up. He looked confused for a long moment, until something clicked with him and he realized what she was implying—not so much a passing thought she was having, it was a very welcome invitation to no longer share the seat. For a moment, though he did his best to hide it, he actually looked somewhat disappointed.

As Archer got up, sliding out of the booth and slid in on the other side the table, he saw out of the corner of his eye as Ariana reached out and grabbed the jacket and the thin, sweater-like undershirt that had been tossed aside so carelessly. For Archer's part, he found himself inadvertently sitting on the wiry headband with wiry cat ears that had popped off of Kat's head, 'discovering' it when it stabbed into his thigh on accident. Wincing, pulling it up from beneath his legs, he straightened the vinyl surface of the seat where it had become depressed, sitting himself forward to face Ariana.

It was the first time he had really had the chance to see her. Between bumping into her outside the bathrooms, being 'introduced' by Ajax, being led by her through the bar only to immediately lose her, and then reuniting with her only to essentially 'walk in' on Kat and Zuzzo, Archer had honestly tricked himself into thinking he had really met and got to know Ariana for a moment there. Even though, this whole time, through following to the bar and through the unintentional peep show, Archer had really been motivated to want to know her.

After all, that was Ajax's assignment. Get to know someone who may or may not be a traitor. The 'may' chance was particularly high.

But, there across from him, Ariana was sitting. A moment of peace, finally.

Above the table, a lone light was hanging by a thin metal wire, pointed down at the table's surface. The sheathing and the dimness of the light itself kept the lights low and private, not to diminish any of the bright, sickeningly pink lights in the rest of the bar. Ariana's face was aglow in the warm, pale light that came from the bulb underneath, making her seem like a ghost amongst the haze of the surrounding bar interior. Her face was thin, somewhat bony for how young she was. Beneath a pair of small eyes stood a pair of pointed, shaped and sharpened eyebrows that always seemed to be engaged. The shadows of the bright light had dimmed everything beneath her brow, but despite that the red lenses of her irises were a glowing neon, brimming intensity as they stared across at Archer. A knowing smile had worked its way onto her lips, crossing the thin and red-painted shapes that they were. Her red hair was pulled back , over her ears and beneath her dirtied black hat. A few loose ends poked out from beneath the brim of the hat, hinting at bright red bangs.

"Ajax must've had something really important to attend to," said Ariana.

Though Archer seemed momentarily stalled by the question, staring back as if he had been accused of something heinous, he looked back down at the glass in his hand as he turned it on the white napkin, pursing his lips into a smirk.

"I'm sorry I'm not nearly as entertaining as Ajax," said Archer. "I hope this doesn't feel like settling."

"Why should it? I was more thinking of the great time you were going to have. I was seriously beginning to think that you 'getting drinks' was your way of resuming your night with Ajax," said Ariana. "If anything, I feel rescued from those two 'just friend' Luvdisc."

Archer chuckled. "I suppose we both have nights that we're both failing on."

As Ariana caught herself chuckling, she reached up, removing the hat from her head and setting atop where Kat's things were piled on the booth. She brushed her hair back quietly, holding a playful grin as she adjusted her seating, holding carefully onto her glass. As she did, passing in and out between the closely-held light of the table, Archer was reminded of the mud-stains that had grazed her cheeks and all the questions that had first crossed his mind when he saw it.

"Don't settle for me, then. Reclaim your night. Go grab a drink with Ajax, go oggle some girls like he always does."

Archer let the thought pass over his head, his grin only growing. "This doesn't feel like settling to me. Does it to you?"

"What does this feel like to you?" asked Ariana.

"This feels like my night is looking a lot better than it did an hour ago," said Archer. "Seriously, this is the best thing to happen all night, getting stuck with someone sane in Team Rocket."

Ariana simply smiled. She set her drink on the napkin, her eyes turning down towards where she folded her hands together in her lap, her smile turning into a patient one.

"What does this feel like to you?" asked Archer, looking on curiously.

"It feels like someone is spying on me. On Ajax's orders."

Archer wasn't ready for that. He wasn't ready for Ariana's gaze as it turned up to meet his. The normally serene, careful look she had in her eyes had been replaced by something far more serious and steely, looking piercing and just as knowing as Archer had feared. The neon red hue in her eyes was far more dangerous than Archer had initially imagined. His look faltered, his smile fading almost instantaneously as he realized that she wasn't kidding. He swallowed, on the verge of breaking any facade he hadn't realized he was putting up.

"What makes you say that? Is it a common tactic of his?" asked Archer.

"You would know, wouldn't you?"

Archer shook his head, sitting back defensively in his side of the booth. Though he had looked away, staring at his drink to get his mind off of Ariana's intensity, he could still feel her eyes on him. Her gaze never faltered.

"I don't believe you," said Ariana, flatly.

"What's there to believe? I never came in with him. I came in with Kat. She was supposed to show me to her friends—which means you," said Archer. "I'm just sticking to the plan, that's all."

"'The plan'?" Ariana asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sighing, Archer came as close as he could to rolling his eyes. The symptoms of a headache he had felt moments earlier when he had saw something truly cringe-worthy had returned.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Archer saw something strange. He saw it as soon as Ariana had looked up to it, looking even more confused at its arrival than she had at anything Archer had said up until that point.

A bartender had arrived, dressed in simple black clothes and with a simple black apron on. In his hands, he wielded a tray, filled with small glasses in rows on a wire holsters, filled with a dangerous-looking clear liquid. He had stood himself at the end of both Archer and Ariana's booth, setting the tray down on their table.

"A round of shots, huh?" asked the bartender. "You don't seem the drinking type."

Ariana gave Archer a charged look, only growing worse when Archer too looked surprised.

"Your friend Ajax is extremely generous," said the bartender, setting down the dozen or so shots.


End file.
